"Empty the magazines," said Venning between his teeth; and the Lee- Metfords poured out a little rain of thin bullets into a space between the tree and the rock.
"Yavuma!" cried the Zulu.
"Yavuma!" roared the Hunter. "Stand firm, my children!"
The Zulu knelt on the brink of the ledge and peered down into the gloom, out of which came the shouts of the enemy, thrown into confusion, when apparently all was going well with the attack. An arrow struck on the rock, then another.
"The tree," he said, pointing into a great tree-top. "Let one chief fire into the tree and the other at the white spot."
"I see the white spot," said Compton; and again he emptied his magazine, while Venning riddled the tree-top, out of which at the discharge men dropped in haste.
"Cease firing," came the command from below. "Now, my children, forward once more. They run."
"They run!" shouted Muata's men, as they swept out from the defile after Mr. Hume.
"At the white spot," said the Zulu, gripping Compton by the arm. "Fire; ye will not hurt our men. There are men with guns where the white is; and, see, others join them. Quick! Shoot, white men, or they slay our friends."
A flame spurted out from the gloom down where the white specks gathered, and the Lee-Metfords were not idle. The little bullets rang into the place where those white-robed Arabs were waiting with their rifles, and before they could play their part, the beaten van of their assaulting party broke upon them in their flight. The battle was over! Muata, returning from the killing of the men he had decoyed into the valley, raised the shout of victory, and the two boys went down into the gorge to join in the throng of exultant and excited warriors.